4:00 A.M. and The Cat, the clouds, and the Psalms
One vigil is past and another is ordered. The faithful covenant Cat of the house through God has done valiantly. At 2:53 this morning, Coolidge triumphantly vomited up the 40-1/2-inch length of ribbon I had fervently hoped would not encircle his intestines and require surgery. He swallowed the ribbon yesterday evening, for reasons known only to his existential Cat brain of the moment. The partially masticated ribbon had remained wadded up in his stomach and never reached his delicate guts. He expelled it like a hairball, and a hairball even came along for company. He had been eating well, been active, with normal gut activity, so we held out hope that he might return the ribbon in such a festive manner. My husband and I both rose to the occasion, which was marked by cheers and purrs all around.
No more assumptions about Coolidge’s superior nature’s indifference to ribbon and other lethal objects. From now on, he is treated as an ordinary cat who cannot be trusted. We have never had flowers or plants of any kind in the house because he revealed his herbophagic tendencies early in life. His propensity for ribbon-eating lay dormant in his nature for years, but now we’re on to him, and the plant rule extends to unspooled ribbon and yarn scraps, as well.
O Lord, thou preservest man and beast (Psalm 36:6).
We’re on a winter storm watch; high winds and more snow are expected later this afternoon, and we are warned of power outages. We are prepared, but setting up a generator is always a hassle, though making coffee and cooking breakfast outdoors on the propane campstove is kind of fun.
After Coolidge’s glorious expulsion of the ribbon, I was so relieved and jubilant that I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got back up at 3:45 and put a roast and beans in the crockpot. They will be cooked by 8:00 a.m., well before the storm and presumed possibility of our power going down, so we will have meals for the weekend that we can heat outdoors on the propane stove, should the storm comply with National Weather Service expectations.
Thy mercy, O Lord, is in the heavens; and thy faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds (Psalm 36:5).
So far, the morning is calm; a crescent moon shines in the south, and the temperature is 24 degrees: not awfully cold. But things change. Our county emergency officials would like us to be home by 2:00 p.m. We have an appointment with a snowstorm.
The Lord reigns; let the earth rejoice…(Psalm 97:2).